


notion

by cicadas



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Blood Kink, Blood Play, Knife Play, Light Sadism, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Risk Aware Consensual Kink, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 20:15:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14776535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cicadas/pseuds/cicadas
Summary: Blood poured soft and fast, a steady stream of red over Wade's irritated skin. He had leant forward without even thinking to chase it up to the source, lips and teeth working against the wound until Wade flinched away from his mouth, muffled whines caught in his throat.-Peter likes blood. Wade bleeds.





	notion

The blade eases into the slowly closing wound like the skin is made of paper.  
Blood seeps out around the knife, pooling at the serrated edges. It pumped out faster the first time he stabbed into this area, but he guesses the healing factor is working to stop Wade from losing too much blood.

He's so pretty.

He's so fucking pretty like this.

His arms are tied behind his back, the thick fabric of his mask taped inside his mouth, little moans and huffs of air barely getting past it. He can hear them fine thanks to his heightened senses, but pretends he can't anyway. The pre-existing scars and scabs that make up Wade's skin are beautiful - just like the rest of him - but what Peter's doing is a work of art.

His wrist flicks upward and the blade comes free, slicing into Wade's collarbone with the motion. Peter looks at the white of bone peeking out between the folds of open skin and muscle, briefly concerned, but it's short-lived.

New waves of blood spill down Wade's bare chest, coating him in a fresh bright red. Peter groans and runs his fingers up his stomach, to his sternum, and finally hooks his fingers into the healing wound, pulling the skin apart once more to watch the liquid seep out of Wade and onto himself. _Beautiful._

Peter straddles Wade's thighs, breath coming in pants as he tries to work himself forward, tries to get some friction by rubbing himself up against Wade's abs. Fuck, he's so pretty. So fucking pretty, bleeding just for him, _because_ of him.  
He looks into Wade's eyes and moves faster, moaning at the sound of the man trying to struggle against the ties on his wrist, trying to form words around the gag in his mouth.

Peter wants to crawl inside his wounds and fucking _breathe_  him.

 

The taste of blood is on his tongue from when he licked into the now-healed gash on Wade's shoulder. It was a quick cut, but a deep one. Blood poured soft and fast, a steady stream of red over Wade's irritated skin, and Peter had leant forward without even thinking to chase it up to the source, lips and teeth working against the wound until Wade flinched away from his mouth, muffled whines caught in his throat.

He debates spitting the mixed fluids from his mouth onto Wade's face, but instead he swallows, cock twitching at the thought of Wade's blood mingling with his own inside him. He rocks forward, pressing his cheek flush with Wade's own, and huffs out hot air onto his skin.

 

"You're beautiful like this, Wade. Unh, _fuck._ You're beautiful all the time, but now? Fuck, baby, you're killing me." Peter grunts into Wade's ear. Something close to a whine emerges from Wade in response, and Peter keens at the sound.

There's a wet line running down from the corner of his eye that Peter leans forward to lick up. His mouth grazes over a rough patch on Wade's cheekbone, and he feels the damaged skin split apart under his pressing tongue. The taste of copper mixes in with salt and spit.  
He can't get any friction this way, so he opts for dropping the smaller pocket-knife onto the concrete and running his hand through the blood pooled at Wade's belly. The liquid stains his jeans as he pushes the fabric down as best he can without standing up fully.

He's rough with himself once he finally gets a hand on his cock, jerking himself with short strokes, leaning forward just enough that the head bumps into Wade's abdomen and the slick covering it.

"Fuck, Wade, fuck," Peter bites the juncture of Wade's neck and shoulder, not hard enough to hurt too badly, but enough to make Wade jerk away in pain.

He feels the weight of Wade's own knife in his other hand, buzzing there like it's alive, so he brings it up and rests it against Wade's neck.

For the first time since they began, Wade stiffens. Pete looks up, meets his eyes, and hesitates.

Wade is scared.

 

And fuck, if that isn't more of a turn-on than any of this has been.

Pete doesn't move the knife, but he doesn't take it away either. Instead, he jerks himself faster, hips thrusting up to meet his hand, mouth hanging slack. He's so close, gripping his cock harder so it hurts, hurts just enough for him to come like this.

He grips the handle of the knife equally as hard, and he must have pressed it closer and closer to Wade's throat because Wade is shaking his head, nicking his skin on the blade in the process, eyes wide and pleading. He could move his arm and that'd be it; blood would spurt onto Peter's face, hot and warm, and Wade's head would loll back, powerless to stop the gash through his windpipe or the blood loss from killing him before his regeneration brought him right back. He could do it- Wade gave him that power when he agreed to this, to the rope and the gag and the _knives.  
_

In reality, he would never--could never--even think about doing just that. They'd talked about it, and Wade had been enthusiastic in showing Pete the many ways he could die and come back 'fine and dandy', but even knowing he could never permanently hurt his boyfriend, Peter just couldn't bring himself to fatally harm him.

But it's that sight - the sight of Wade looking afraid that he _might_  - that tips him over the edge, shaking against Wade's solid frame, bloody and messy and _perfect._

 

Peter wipes the spit from his chin and leans forward to kiss Wade's taped mouth before he rips it off. Wade spits the mask onto his lap, lips looking wet and sore, so Peter kisses them, too.

"You okay?" He asks, rubbing circles into the place on his collarbone he'd cut into.

Wade tries to roll his shoulders, but his arms are tied too closely together for him to really stretch properly.

"I'll feel better once you let me come. Holy _shit_ , Peter, you are intense. I think you may be the insane one in this relationship, not me. My mind is a spring chicken flourishing in the field compared to your minefield of a brain." He says, voice hoarse.

Peter hits him lightly, mindful of the areas he'd wounded (he knew they ached even after they'd finished healing), and kisses Wade again.

"Mm, you wish. Cut the head off the spring chicken, and maybe you're onto something." Pete says, and Wade laughs.  
He cants his hips up, bucking Peter off-balance momentarily.

"C'mon, baby boy, let me outta this shit." He says.  
  
  
Peter leans over Wade's shoulder and looks down at his wrists, heavily knotted together and tied to the back of the chair with rope he'd taken from Wade's own duffel bag.

"Maybe next time I should use my webs" He muses.

"Pete-" Wade tries to buck him off again - he can feel the hardness against his leg when he does so - but Peter clenches his thighs together, keeping him in place.

"I could have you in any position I wanted. Against the wall? Suspended, maybe?"

Wade groans. "Fuck, Pete, c'mon, either get me off or untie me, enough with the teasing."

"Teasing? I don't know what you're talking about" Peter leans forward to kiss him again, but Wade turns his head.

"You know exactly what you're doing, your ass is positioned perfectly on my dick and I'm fucking hard, Peter." 

  
It's then that he looks down at the blotched stains on Wade's strained jeans, at the places where the blue denim is still visible, and suddenly all he wants is to have it gone, for there to be nothing clean left-- to have Wade soaked in blood.

He looks up, eyes innocent, and presses the base of his palm into Wade's crotch.

"Give me a minute, Wade, and we can play again"

Wade's head whips up. "Pete, no, c'mon."

He tries to squirm away, muscles in his arms and legs tensing against the restraints, but Peter hold him firm. He leans close, lips brushing the shell of Wade's ear before he bites down. "I'll make it good for you,"  
The knife is still in his left hand. His grip on the handle tightens as he brings it up to Wade's neck once more.

  
"I always make it good, don't I?"

 

 

  

**Author's Note:**

> this idea came to me while listening to tash sultana, hence the title.
> 
> is peter insane? or just very kinky. the stars and i do not know.


End file.
